


Late for Class

by syndicateanonymoose



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Webseries)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dark Material, Gay Character(s), Human AU, Nonbinary Character(s), Other, also sketchbook is nonbinary, but like sketchbook is nb, don’t try and convince me otherwise it’s literally canon, he doesn’t mean to be homophobic he’s just brainwashed, humanized nonhuman, humanized objects, literally just read this or don’t man idc, maybe relationships but this is dhmis people, shit gets fucked, shrignold is homophobic but he’s doing his best, someone hug manny blease, their name isn’t paige, theyre all human, this isn’t just a walk in the park
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syndicateanonymoose/pseuds/syndicateanonymoose
Summary: EDIT 17/8/20: i’m unhappy with this so i’m restarting it. i’ll leave the first two chapters up, but the real story starts on chapter 4.There aren’t enough stories with nb Sketchbook so I’m here to provide. It is actually confirmed by the creators that Sketch is not female or male. Their name isn’t Paige.Expect canon-typical violence. Remember the source material people. If you’re uncomfy with violence why would you even watch dhmis?I don’t do ‘ships’. I do legitimate relationships. If there is going to be relationships they won’t be ‘ships’ for you to ‘fangirl’ over.Don’t know how long this will be, updating at random because I do what I want, expect gaps.Basically just dhmis but they’re human.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. First Bell

First, there was darkness. Nothing. There was no life or death. Then, we learned. We sat in the shadows and discovered how to die. We watched our friends fade as blood poured from their noses. We watched in silence. We watched in fear. Then, we taught. We stood behind lightbulbs and sung about how to live. We watched our friends glow as tears poured from their eyes. We have always been there, and we will continue to be there until the end.

...

Somewhere, a boy wakes up. Not a very impressive action on paper, barely noteworthy, barely worth anything. The point, however, is that he was once asleep, and now he is awake. He didn't dream. Dreams are not in the curriculum. Not today. He knows he is falling behind again. He knows father will have something to say about that. He's not sure if he cares anymore. Lessons are unappealing. He'd rather take the anger, the beatings, the punishment, than be subjected to another mindless lesson. He loves Harry, whom he lovingly nicknamed 'Red Guy' when he was a small boy (well, a smaller boy than he is today), he really does love him, but his voice..god...his voice. It's emotionless. Completely monotonous. He can't take it anymore. He sighs, finally trudging through his monotonous morning routine, to the kitchen to have a monotonous breakfast, to have a monotonous lesson.  
...  
or so he thought.

He knows something is wrong as soon as he enters the kitchen. The familiar glow of the kitchen seems brighter. Someone else is here. Not Harry or Robin. Not even father. There are cameras here now. The boy hates cameras. They remind him of...something. Something...bad? No, not quite bad. Just...worse. Harry and Robin enter. Robin seems surprised. Harry is unfazed.  
"Harry. What's going on?" Robin asks, almost sounding concerned.  
Harry just grunts and starts making coffee.  
"Manny, I'm making you eggs again, okay?" Robin starts the stove, unaware of what's to come.

...

Somewhere, offscreen, the one known by many names waits. They are silently preparing, running their fingers through their long, colorful hair. There is another presence in the room with them. A taller presence. He is reminding them that they are expected, and expected soon. They wave him off, much to his dismay. He goes on for a minute or two more, before they wink at him and get up, effectively shutting him up. They burst through the kitchen door, their predetermined lesson plan down by heart.

They turn their attention to the residents, two of the three looking shocked, pale as ghosts. The third seemed unbothered. They flash their biggest smile and produce their namesake, a sketchbook, from their pocket.  
"What's your favorite idea?"

The lesson starts out okay. Manny appears to be enjoying himself for a change. Harry occasionally throws out an answer or two to get Manny to interact more. The lesson is taught through song. The new teacher, Sketchbook, or just Sketch, is all the right things. They talk about their hair, clouds, paint, they're amazing! Even though they punish Manny when he gets 'too far ahead', telling him he 'needs to slow down'. Despite this, they keep a friendly and light atmosphere. Right up until...

"Come on guys, let's get creative!"  
The scene shifts. It's familiar, like something out of a dream. No, not a dream. We still haven't learned dreams. It's a sequence. Something takes over. A primal, long tucked away urge. Suddenly, nothing is real. The boy feels taller. Stranger. He's dancing. When did he start dancing? And he's hungry. Oh how hungry is he. He craves...something. He blinks and suddenly he's tearing, ripping, peeling, the glitter cascading down as Sketch watches from their perch on the refrigerator. Robin holds a knife, no, a cake server. Something is wrong with the cake. It smells bad. It's red. Something's wrong. Sketch just watches. Always watches. They're smiling now. Have they always been smiling like that?  
...  
It's raining. The rain is the key. They can stop this. Sketch can stop this. They just have to listen to the rain. Rain whispers things. Creative things. Not green though. Green isn't creative. Sketch always loved to draw. It's how they got their name. It actually wasn't their suggestion. It was someone else's, but we don't get to meet him until...uh...some other time. Sketch wasn't always this way. They loved kids, loved to teach. Their...methods...were questioned often. Then they met Roy. He offered them a job. Now they were here. Shedding old labels. Promising they would never answer to Paige again. The rain snapped them out of their thoughts. This has gotten out of hand. The cake...it's full of gore. There's something ripped open on the tile. The heart is covered in glitter. They sigh. Failed again. They hop down from the fridge, though the three 'students' didn't notice. They made their way to the door, scribbling something on a page in their sketchbook. They plaster that large, too-cheery smile on again. "Now let's all agree, to never be creative again!" They shut the door behind them, after tacking the page to the door. On it is a single red F. Failed.  
...  
Sketch is lamenting to the same guy that gave them their name. Once again, it is not his time. We haven't learned about time yet. Soon.  
...  
Manny prepares himself for bed. His emotions are conflicting, fighting, swirling. The lesson was fun. Better. A change. But...the ripping...the tearing...the blood...the oil paint...all over something he had created...that teacher...oh god. He quickly crouched in front of the toilet just in time for all of that 'cake' to come back up, bloody red chunks mixing with the pure blue of the toilet paper. It's disgusting. It's all over his chin, the front of his pajamas. He cleans himself up, not wanting to bother Robin or Harry, and crawls into bed. He still hasn't learned dreams, so sleep comes easy. He now knows how to be creative...but at what cost...?

Everything has a price...

———————————————————————————  
Author's Note:

Heyyyyy fuckers! This is the first ever dhmis story I've written. I wrote this whole thing out of pure fucking spite because guess what? Sketchbook is not a girl! It's literally fucking canon that Sketch is nonbinary (technically paper gender but yknow nb) and also their name is not Paige, it's Sketchbook, or Notepad. Get your facts straight.


	2. Second Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a new lesson. What's it about? Go back and read the first word of the first sentence.

The sun comes up in the morning, at precisely 5 am, as per usual. This is nature. Nature doesn't require acknowledgement, doesn't require this many words, yet here it is, wasting words. Sometimes it's nice to be in control. The timekeeper finds this, this sense of control, quite comforting, actually. The one with the multicolored hair, the one we remember as 'Sketch', stands at his side. They are not always in control, and sometimes they are okay with that. Sometimes, they let the rain take control, as we must remember last episode. The boy certainly remembers. The one with the green hair and yellow eyes remembers. The one that is red absolutely remembers. He remembers more than we are allowed to know. We will find out later. Sketch takes their turn, standing behind him as he straightens his tie. The two of them, the unlikeliest of friends, share the look. No one can quite place what the duo are trying to say with that look. We will probably be allowed to know at a later date. Until then, the second bell must ring.

...

No sleep. Never sleep. No dreams, yet still, a fear of sleep. He knows he can only escape through this periscopical void, though he cannot. The color red blinds him. The taste wilts in his mouth, the acid at the back of his throat threatening him every time he dares to move. We remember him, as well. Manny. He resigns to fear and terror, his newfound state of mind, and proceeds. Like a shark, he can only move forwards.

...

The man that wears red sighs. He never meant for this to happen.

...

The green one seems content. He is seemingly unaware of what is really going on. He will know soon.

...

It is time. Time is something he is quite familiar after all, seeing as he is the timekeeper. Timekeeper is just a title. His real name is Tony. Sketch calls him 'Tony the Talking Clock', as reference to his fascination with time. He uses time to stay in control, ironically. Time is the one thing nobody can control, though many have tried. He is finally prepared. Sketch winks at him as they exit the room. When Tony enters for Second Bell, the 'family' is seated in the living room. The tv is on, though nothing is playing. 

"Come on guys, stop mucking around, we've only got five minutes until our show's on." The red one- Harry- says.

Tony smirks. He remembers this as his cue.

Before he can say what was reccomennded, the green one speaks. He wasn't supposed to speak. Why did he speak?  
"That's not enough time!"

Tony must think on his feet. Go off-script. "There's always time for a song." He improvises.

"What? Who is that?" Harry mumbles. Tony doesn't seem to hear. He launches into his lesson, A Journey Through all Time. Time changes, as everything does. Everything must change. Tony knows this, Manny has learned this, Robin will learn this, Harry has tried to teach this. We don't know about Harry. We know nothing beyond the red of his hair and the drone of his monotone voice. Maybe someday. Maybe after lunch. Though it is not lunchtime yet. It's Time time right now. Tony continues. He is time, and thus he must continue. Time must always continue. The yellow one is speaking. The yellow one's dad is here. Tony takes pity on the yellow one, just in this moment. The yellow one's dad is why we are here in the first place, after all. We are only here because of the camera. The camera is always running. The yellow one hates cameras. Father knows this, and places one in his son's room. Tony changes the scene. They are back in the living room. The familiarity of this room is supposed to be comforting to the yellow one, the youngest in many rooms. The pity runs away like a skittish animal as anger takes over. The yellow one is questioning ways that should never be questioned. He begins to shout. He doesn't mean to shout. He just shouts. The red returns, from the ears this time. The yellow one cannot even cry. He forgets how to. Time, the illusion, speeds up. Nothing is really happening. but...

...  
rot  
...

so much rot...  
the rot is...  
everywhere...  
hair  
eyes  
feathers  
blood  
all over the floor...  
the familiar familiar floor...

look at your hair grow...

isn't it strange...?

how time  
makes  
your appearance...

change...?

...

don't sleep.  
don't ever sleep again.  
fear red.  
fear clocks.  
fear the rain.

...

Sketch and Tony are close. Almost too close. Sometimes the others wonder. Especially the small one. The small one we haven't met yet. The small one we will meet soon who will change everything. The small one wonders about Cupid sometimes. He can see Sketch and Tony now. He wonders if they ever wonder about Cupid. Do they even know about Cupid? Oh well...they'll find out soon enough...

Time is currency.

Don't go bankrupt.

Until next time...


	3. (notes)

hey. so basically, i became super unhappy with this story and i plan on completely rewriting it. i’ll leave the first two chapters up incase for some reason someone still wants to read them, but the actual story starts on chapter four.

-syndicate


End file.
